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<title>It’s not a problem it’s just something i got used to it by kyo1</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26809423">It’s not a problem it’s just something i got used to it</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyo1/pseuds/kyo1'>kyo1</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Depressed Peter Parker, Other, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Sad Peter Parker, Suicidal Peter Parker, Suicidal Thoughts, peter parker pov, referenced self harm, suicidal idealization, tw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:47:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>593</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26809423</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyo1/pseuds/kyo1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>some days it burns and grips at my chest and it hurts so much and i want to scream but i can’t, i have to be quiet. if i scream people will see , and if people see what i see, it’s like i’m burning all over again.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It’s not a problem it’s just something i got used to it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Vent fic , sorry it’s crappy</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>some days , it feels like i’m melting. i’ll be slowly falling and ripping at my seams. And nothing could hold be from breaking apart. </p>
<p>some days it burns and grips at my chest and it hurts so much and i want to scream but i can’t, i have to be quiet. if i scream people will see , and if people see what i see, it’s like i’m burning all over again. </p>
<p>some days it settles comfortably between the waves of my ribs. it’s quiet, but loud in a way i know it will never truly leave. </p>
<p>some days it’s like a gum at the bottom of my shoe, annoying and sticking my feet to ground, letting me know i can’t ever really escape this. </p>
<p>some days i fall apart and cave in to the pain. it’s cold against the skin, but at least i know i’m truly alive. it’s an uncomfortable feeling, but better than knowing i’m not there. </p>
<p>some days i can’t remember anything before this. it feels like life has always been this way. i know it couldn’t have, but it feels so true and real , it’s almost tangible. </p>
<p>some days it’s makes me shake quietly. i’m not loud, but tears gather in my eyes. i try to blink them back, but it’s like my eye lids can’t stop the wave of pain. and i cry, not that anyone notices. </p>
<p>some days its like i’m being held captive by who i am and who’ll ill become. it’s a scary thought , having to grow up. </p>
<p>some days i want to turn back time. not to change anything, but to see where it all began. when did it start to hurt ? because every memory is now blurred and i can’t tell what’s real anymore. </p>
<p>some days it’s scary. i’m so afraid of what i want and what i think. the thoughts never leave. it’s like they’ve been sewed into every nerve in my brain. like it’s part of my dna. i don’t like it, but at least i know if everyone leaves, they won’t. </p>
<p>some days i want to scream. scream until my vocal chords are splitting apart and my throat is raw and bleeding. scream every word i’ve held captive between my teeth. i won’t. but it’s a comforting thought that i could. </p>
<p>some days i want to sew my lips shut and never speak another word. never scream. never whisper.</p>
<p>some days it doesn’t hurt. at least not in the same way it usually does. it hurts, of course, the hurting never stops, but it doesn’t hurt like it does. but is it worse ? it hurts that it doesn’t hurt. </p>
<p>some days i like the hurting. makes me know i’m alive. i don’t want to be, but nonetheless i exist. i exist. i exist. </p>
<p>some days every aspect of who i thought i was contorts and shifts that i lose perspective of who i am. who am i truly ? myself or what you thought of me? </p>
<p>some days i want to be left a memory. a forgotten page of a book you picked up, but never got around reading. </p>
<p>some days i drown. not actually, and probably never will, but my skin drowns me inside and holds me tight. it’s like a hug. except i don’t want it. </p>
<p>some days i can’t recognize my hands. </p>
<p>some days i can’t recognize my face.</p>
<p>some days i wish...i wish for a lot of things. </p>
<p>some days , some nights , i wish i wasn’t scared. </p>
<p>some days , some nights , i wish i were dead.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i suck at putting my emotions into words, but i think this captivates a good chunk of it.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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